Birdsong
by Wordgawk
Summary: The Festival of the Blade approaches and an apprehensive Kyrie plans to become songstress. Nero finds out and brews up a plan of his own.


Author's note: When I write stories based off games I usually write when I'm finished playing, but DMC4 has been the exception! I started writing this around the halfway point in the game after Nero "awakens". His emotions are so powerful, I couldn't resist typing. And typing some more. Having just finished the game, I am still awed at the subtlety of the facial expressions that can be rendered on the PS3. Incredible! Story fodder, yes!

This is a pre-game fic. If you know two people named Kyrie and Nero are in DMC4, you're good to go. I assumed Nero didn't get his Devil Bringer until later. Nothing belongs to me except -and I can claim surprisingly- an italicized section you will pass by. Please read and review!

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Birdsong

"I thought I'd find you here."

Kyrie glanced up from the flower she was detaching petals from. Nero stood there, a hand on his hip. Seated on a bench in the vast business district, she didn't expect Nero to search for her here. Easygoing villagers milled around, business associates congregated in restaurants discussing their latest financial successes and woes, traffic life putted along the streets. All in all, a bustling city filled with busy people. Still, if she got lost in Fortuna, Nero would find a way to reach her. He was a demon hunter, after all; tracking was part of his repertoire.

Nero slid himself next to her on the smooth stone bench. He lightly nudged her arm with an elbow. "I heard you're a lucky contestant to become the leading lady in this year's Festival of the Blade."

She stared down at the half-picked stem in her lap. "Where did you hear that?" The news about a songstress being chosen to lend her voice for this year's ceremony had been announced this week. Kyrie wished with all her heart to participate this year, but so did a handful of other females. She was up against some stiff competition. From what she heard in auditions her competitors could sing to bring down the moon from the night sky, their voices were a wonder. Kyrie had talent, but even so, those other performers were very skilled.

"That information is a secret." Nero grinned. His happy expression dimmed when she didn't return his enthusiasm. "Hey, what's wrong?"

The sad-looking flower Kyrie had almost picked clean lay in her lap. She had played with it to keep her mind off of the tryouts, but Nero reminded her of them. Kyrie didn't reply. Did she need to gripe? Whining was the last thing she felt like doing; it'd only make her feel worse. Kyrie wanted to honor the great demon Sparda for keeping this world alive. For giving her the chance for countless opportunities and people to enter her life. Nero, for one. Taking part in the ceremony meant a significant deal more to her than prestige at claiming the spotlight for such a distinguished rite.

"Kyrie? Fortuna chip pancakes to Kyrie?" Nero clicked his fingers in front of her and she started. She focused on his unguarded face and smiled at his words. This morning their neighbor had generously given Kyrie a veritable stack of sweet chip pancakes. Made using Fortuna's unique blend of spicy and sweet baking chips, the foodstuff was an essential in a kitchen.

The cook, an aspiring older lady who wanted to try her luck at creating tasty breakfasts, had gone overboard and made too many pancakes for her own family. Enjoyment was an understatement when Kyrie returned home and Nero got nibbly with the gift. He couldn't stop making satisfying lip-smacking noises when he cleared out half of the container the cakes were stored in. Kyrie managed to snag a few slices for herself and her brother Credo before Nero downed what starchy goodness was left.

Kyrie patted his knee and half-heartedly jested, "Dear Nero, it's a wonder you saved some pancakes for me."

"Heh, you know me and food." He stretched out his long legs and leaned back on his hands.

"Oh yes, you're a growing boy, all right." Kyrie teased him about this, but the fact was true and she felt a heat creep up her neck. Between demon slaying and running errands for the townsfolk, his physique was built enough to not be a pushover. Robust forearms, sturdy legs. Kyrie tried to unbalance him in the past by playful shoves, but Nero always remained solid like a tree trunk and didn't topple. Unless he deliberately fell over to make her feel better when he knew she couldn't move him.

"Excuse me, you're Kyrie, right?" a girl's voice interrupted their conversation.

The speaker who approached them Kyrie recognized as one of -as Nero put it- the contestants to be singer.

"Good luck getting the role. The festival is coming soon." A pursed smile pulled the girl's lips.

Happiness at chatting with a comrade instead of a competitor put Kyrie in higher spirits. "Thanks. You too."

The girl then frowned malevolently, her genial look gone. "Yeah, you'll need it. With the way your voice cracked in practice today, you're done for."

Kyrie's stomach dipped. Normally, she could resolve problems like this with patience and optimism but her low mood distracted her. She stayed silent and averted her eyes. If she looked at the woman, Kyrie might lose her temper.

Her introverted state was bait and the female sneered. "That's right, don't say anything. The auditions are better like that."

Nero flared at the insulter, swiftly rising to his feet with a glower. "Watch what you're saying. Your mouth ain't pretty."

Faux shock made the girl press a mock hand to her chest. She stared at Kyrie, ignoring the male. "Oh my, such a gentleman to talk for you."

The angry demon hunter stepped forward, his smoldering eyes swinging her attention right on him. "Well, this _gentleman_ can do more than talk."

"Ooh, hurt me." The woman gave him a very obvious once-over, eying him from face to waist then back up, lingering her vision on the lower region longer than necessary.

The silver-haired youth set a humorless stare on the instigator. "Know anyone who's been shot point blank?"

"Stop, the two of you." Frustration caused Kyrie to bark. Nero cast his gaze down at her and grudgingly granted her request, pulling away the two inches his face was lined up with the other woman's.

"I do have an appointment." A fake genial wave was aimed at the sitting Kyrie and a wink in Nero's before the girl walked away.

"What a nuisance," Nero growled as he frowned at the retreating back.

Kyrie grew mute again. Why did this chance to sing at the festival have to be such a drama?

To her surprise, Nero seized her hand and pulled her up to a standing position, spilling her forgotten flower on the ground. "C'mon, I got somethin' for you." He began to lead her to an unknown destination.

It was quite a stroll, if Kyrie could call being towed a leisurely jaunt. Once she caught up next to Nero instead of straggling, the pressure on her arm lessened. She stepped hastily; he was a fast walker. In silence, Nero led her past the archway that led to the opera house.

"W-wait, Nero, we can't go inside." Kyrie tried to protest when they were at the entrance, or at least stop her feet from walking. Although when it came to headstrong ideas coupled with determination, Nero wasn't one to back down from going through with whatever fancy entered his mind.

Cheekiness made him wink at her. "Why not? There's nothing special planned in there today."

Inside the darkened hall, Kyrie's eyes adjusted to the lack of light. He was right; the place was barren of life. She caught sight of the wooden pews, the bold rugs spread on the stone floors, and of course, in the back of the large room towered the monolith of Sparda, savior of mankind. The middle of the room was lit by the massive crystal skylight installed in the rooftop.

Nero's tight grip loosened as he strode to the stage where Kyrie had been informed the songstress would sing at during the festival. Hesitantly, Kyrie halted when he let her go, but he beckoned her to follow. "Hey, no dragging feet." The man's words echoed in the expansive room.

She watched her close friend stride ahead, aplomb and purpose resonating with the loud steps in the empty hall. What was he up to? She slowly trailed behind him.

Nero parked himself smack dab in the middle of the stage. His scanning blue eyes observed the area and he clapped a couple times, listening to the sharp noise cut through the air and reverberate. He looked pleased. "Wow, this spot has great acoustics."

Kyrie, standing to the side, must've been giving him an odd expression because he laughed when he saw her. "You're gonna sing. Right now."

She flushed. Burst into song with only him as audience?

"Hey, you're good at this." Nero told Kyrie this when he saw the reluctance. He paused and added as a soft afterthought, "You've got a nice voice."

Silence descended on Nero when he shifted his gaze away shyly at Kyrie's questioning raised brow. "When did you decide that?"

Timidness burrowed Nero into his quiet shell and he self-consciously rubbed his nose. With those shifty eyes taking in everywhere else but Kyrie, he wasn't going to answer. The woman giggled and let the issue go. He could switch attitudes quickly. Instead, she asked, "What do you want me to sing? The one for the event?" She was practicing the harmony for her auditions.

Nero thought for a moment. "Nah, I want to hear it fresh. Y'know, be dazzled like everyone else will be." Encouragement peeked out in a subdued smile, then in the next beat, he chirped, "At the docks when you were on your trip for your exotic food craving. There was the kid."

Why was she surprised he had been there? She hadn't requested his presence because she'd be gone for only the day. "You followed me."

Nero answered simply. "I was talking with someone." He tossed out the excuse evenly but it was clear that concern for her safety was his prime reason for being at the harbor. When Kyrie had announced her departure he insisted on accompanying to her to the docks, but she assured him she was fine. He didn't listen to her and came anyway. She didn't mind. Having someone care was never an annoying thing.

While waiting in the long lineup to board the ship, a small girl ahead was making a fuss. Morning departures were busy and passengers were being held up because of the child. Impatience made some of them sharp-tongued to her and her mother who was desperately trying to coax her daughter to quiet down and to move ahead. The rude behavior of the people around them only discouraged the girl more from boarding.

Kyrie wanted to leave as eagerly as everyone else, but coercion likely wasn't going to work. She willingly moved out of her place in line and went to the little girl. In a positive tone, Kyrie told her ship rides were fun if she put her mind to it. To add to joviality, Kyrie broke out a random ditty she created on the spot. The youngster laughed and was convinced to board. She even took Kyrie's hand to invite her to sit with her mother and herself.

Nero, having picked a spot in front of the stage, settled down in a pew. He relaxed, his arms resting on the back of his seat. "I'm all ears. Belt out those lyrics like you will in the festival."

She wasn't selected yet to be vocalist. "It's a silly song. Besides, you've heard it already."

There was an innocent grin. "Bits and pieces. Not the whole thing."

Kyrie continued to oppose his request. "I'm not singing it like I would then. I'm not chosen yet."

He only tilted his head in an admonishing gesture. Kyrie sighed and stepped in the same spot Nero occupied a minute ago. Taking in a deep breath, she opened her mouth, but no sound came. Kyrie changed her mind. This melody wasn't going to do anything to raise her chances to be the main singer. She shook her head apologetically.

The young man rose. Carefully, he moved across the space between them, ascended the stairs that led to the stage, and stepped in front of her. His tall height allowed him to zero his azure eyes into hers. Kyrie's heartbeat raised a notch when he didn't do anything except silently watch her with a mesmerizing intensity. She rarely saw this gravity from him. When Nero placed both his hands on her cheeks, diverting her stare onto his face, she couldn't look away. His palms were solid and warm.

"Forget about being the lead."

"But I want to, Nero. It's important-"

"I mean now." Seriousness etched in his impervious stare. "Sing because you want to. Sing right now because you desire letting your voice go."

The brilliant glass dome above them filtered in sunlight, shining on them. Nero's silver hair glowed white, but all Kyrie noticed was his unwavering eyes. She decidedly nodded.

Nero moved behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. The strength in his calm touch was reassuring.

With Nero still holding on, Kyrie raised her eyes high to the colored dome of glass. She thought of her impromptu song from the docks and started to feel humor bubble up inside. She opened her mouth and let her voice soar. Long notes, crescendos, vibratos and high notes garnished the lyrics.

_Don't be cranky and glum,  
for trips are meant to be full of fun and chewing gum.  
Go on this ship to sail away,  
watch out for the fish today.  
In the deep sea they swim big and small,  
jump, jump in your lap they can when you call._

Kyrie felt Nero's hands on her shoulders start to shake from his silent chuckles. He didn't want to be disrespectful by openly guffawing at the grandness of such a light-hearted tune, she could tell. He was having a hard time controlling himself while she sang. If she glanced back, she knew he'd be making such a resistant face to snickering. She didn't check. In fact, she didn't say anything for a suspended moment; it took a little while to let the words really sink in. She just sang a song in an immaculate, regal opera house about flopping fish. Kyrie burst out in peals of gaiety.

Once she got going, Nero couldn't contain himself, either. Their crazy laughter rang throughout the sanctum, unavoidably loud but unconcerned. Kyrie was laughing so hard she had to lean against his arm because her legs were weakening with her joy. Singing operatic for a playful song she'd never done before.

Whoever could breathe again could speak, and Nero regained his air first, but barely. "N-n-now there's a performance to deliver at the ceremony! Get those old guys busting a gut because it's f-funny!"

Tears were forming in Kyrie's eyes from giggling so much. "H-hopping S-Sparda fish. Think there's s-such a thing? Maybe we can make a profit from Sparda Salmon! Quickly, to the docks again!"

Nero's restrained chortles became unruly as he tossed his head back. The richness of the force expelling from his lungs made him sound like he was having the best time of his life. Listening to his happiness was because of his spontaneous idea to enter the opera house. A wide grin spread on Kyrie's lips.

When the room eventually quieted a good two minutes later and they were able to stop clutching their stomachs from eternal chortles, grateful waves washed over Kyrie. Nero was a wonder. "Thank you."

His playful eyes shone. "No problem. Oh, when you get the part, not 'if'..."

"When I get the part," Kyrie agreeably echoed, catching his infectious optimism.

"...we'll celebrate."

"Really? Who will be invited?"

Nero leaned in and his mouth hovered near her ear. "Including you, I'd say me." His meaningful reply was low.

A glow of affection bloomed in her chest. She peered up at his face from beneath her lashes. "What if I don't get the role?"

His teasing smirk grew and Nero patted the hidden thigh holster where his Blue Rose revolver was. "I'll convince the judges somehow."

-- THE END --


End file.
